Just a Little Too Late
by Sailor Gemini
Summary: Outside of You-Know-Who, there wasn't much of anything that was thought could take down the mighty Boy Who Lived. Sometimes though, even our champions fall. This time, if recollection serves correctly, it seems that he is the cause of his own downfall.
1. Chapter 1  A Mistaken Glance

"Just A Little Too Late"

By: Sailor Gemini

Summary: Outside of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, there wasn't much of anything that was thought could take down the mighty Boy Who Lived. Sometimes though, even our champions fall. This time, if recollection serves correctly, it seems that he is the cause of his own undoing.

_Chapter One: A Mistaken Glance_

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Harry looked at himself in the mirror, and it clucked at his complexion. "Oh you poor thing. I don't think you should go out looking like that, dear. You look so dreadful!"

He tried not to let the words of the simple object get to him, but his brow furrowed. "Now dear, that looks even worse. If you keep your face like that long enough, it's bound to stay that way. Relax. Pinch your cheeks for some color."

Harry turned his back to the mirror rather than continue to listen to its annoying string of advice. He knew he looked dreadful. He knew that he was probably as pale as the first time we woke up after fainting from a dementor. If anything, he felt the same way. As if all the happiness had been sucked out of him.

His chest felt almost hollow, and he sat there alone in the lavatory, and tried to gather a recollection of exactly how things had come to be this way.

Of course, you haven't any idea of what Harry had just seen to make him as white as a sheet, feeling robbed of joy. I suppose the suspense might just be toying with you. For the first time in a long time, Harry had been brought to his knees, but not by Voldemort, or evil Death Eaters, but he was a victim of his own doing.

As Harry closed his eyes, he saw the image that was almost burned into his mind's eye. Ginny, who he had always deemed as _his Ginny_ in the private thoughts of his own mind, had been pushed up against a wall by the slimy git who found nothing more entertaining then making Harry's life hell.

Harry had been out doing some patrolling that evening with Ron, walking through the grounds underneath his Invisibility Cloak, mostly to keep him company. Ron had just told him he had to meet up with Hermione and the other prefects for a few minutes before he was free to go to bed. Harry had separated with him a few corridors back, and was just taking a short-cut through the court yard when he saw the Malfoy and Ginny in a tussle through a window. Being the ever so nice rescuer-of-sorts, Harry had the brilliant idea to try and save her. He had just pulled out his wand, and started towards the Arithmancy classroom, when he heard something very peculiar from the open window as he passed it. It caused him to stop for a moment, and peer in through the small slot between the window pane and the window itself.

He saw Draco Malfoy, who's robe was almost falling off of his shoulders, pushing Ginny Weasley, who's robe was already pooled at their feet, up against the wall across from the window. Draco had one of her hands gripped in his, above her head, and Harry almost pushed open the window when he heard Ginny, dammit his Ginny, whimper in this almost kittenish way, and he saw her hands pulling at Malfoy's robe.

Malfoy let go of her hand, and grabbed her roughly by the hips, pulling her up against him, and Harry saw her clearly as the two of them kissed. His wand hung loosely from his fingertips and his mouth slowly dropped open, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from what he was witnessing. Her eyes were half closed as he broke the kiss, and she moved her head to the side as he slid a hand into her hair to hold her still as he started to kiss up her neck from her exposed collarbone to right behind her ear.

Harry then heard her moan, a sound he only thought about late at night when he wished he could hear her whisper his name when he couldn't sleep, and he sudddenly couldn't look anymore. He turned away from the window, and walked quickly in the other direction, with the a sharp ache forming in the pit of stomach. He made his way quickly to the Gryffindor common room, and slid into the men's lavatory, for fear of seeing anyone.

The thought that this was his fault, surely he was aware of. Harry was one of the few boys who has been lucky enough to receive an almost unconditional love and loyalty from a pretty young girl close to him. She has been a family friend, and an understanding compassionate one who had grown to be close to him these past few years. He had never tried for what she wanted though, and while he tried to tell himself it was the more noble route, the safest route for Ginny, he couldn't help but think that he had made the wrong decision. He had never quite figured out that Ginny would give up hope after a while. Even when she dated a few of the boys in his year, Harry never took them too seriously. He surmised that it was probably then that his eyes were opened to how much this young pretty girl had grown into a beautiful young woman.

And now, well, Harry didn't know what to think. He knew that he wasn't going to say anything to either Ron of Hermione until he had figured out more of what was going on.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2  A Few Months Prior

"Just a Little Too Late

By: Sailor Gemini

Summary:

Outside of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, there wasn't much of anything that was thought could take down the mighty Boy Who Lived. Sometimes though, even our champions fall. This time, if recollection serves correctly, it seems that he is the cause of his own undoing.

_Chapter Two: A Few Months Prior_

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"Hello," he greeted her, and she felt her skin crawl as he took her coat off of her shoulders, sliding it back towards him. She could almost feel his eyes as they traced her figure and goosebumps prickled along her arms. She slowly unwrapped the scarf that had kept her face warm as she walked here to meet him. "I'm surprised you came," he admitted, and she finally sat down, across from him.

"Why would you say that?" she asked absentmindedly, pulling her gloves off of her hand. They were worn, and there was a spot close to the palm that needed to be mended she realized.

"You must be joking, Weasley," he mused, leaning back into the leather fabric of the booth they sat in.

"What can I get you darling?" A gorgeous blonde woman asked Draco, and Ginny couldn't help but scowl as she saw the way the woman batted her eyelashes.

"I want a peppermint coffee, please," she stated as Draco started to open his mouth. The woman shot her a dirty look, but wrote down her request before batting her eyelashes in the blonde's direction.

"I'll have my usual Esmer," he told her, and she smiled at him again.

"I'll have these up in a few moments," she told him, turning back towards the kitchen. "Are these going to be on the same ticket?" she asked as an afterthought, turning back around to look at Draco pointedly.

"No," Ginny started to say, reaching into her pocket at the same moment as Draco nodded and said, "Yeah, put it on my tab."

"You don't need to worry about paying for my drink Malfoy."

"Please, for common courtesies sake, let me take care of it. Let's just say I'm old fashioned."

"Really," she replied, leaning her hands onto the table in front of her. "You're not even going to make a 'you're poor!' joke? I'm genuinely surprised, Malfoy," she teased.

He almost seemed to bristle himself, and she realized she actually had him somewhat uncomfortable.

"Okay," she said, looking at her hands. "I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure why you invited me here."

"I thought you would understand the concept of why a man might invite a pretty girl out for warm drinks on a cold snowy Sunday afternoon, but maybe it's just a tiny over your head."

"So, you're past the 'poor girl' jokes, but not past the ones attacking my intelligence," she mused, with a half smile.

"And you, silly girl, just missed the fact that I told you that you were pretty. Beautiful really."

A blush started to stain her cheeks, and she looked up at him. "My mother always told me to say thank you when I received a compliment," she started, and looked back up at him. "So thank you. To be honest, it's not something I hear often living with eight hundred older brothers," she exaggerated, grinning at him.

"Glad I'm not the only one to have noticed your mother's uncommon fertility."

She laughed, and he smirked.

Esmer returned with their steaming drinks, and Ginny took a spoon to hers, stirring it all around before licking some of the whip-cream off the spoon itself. Draco couldn't help but stare at her, and Ginny pretended not to notice. Instead, she casually studied his cool appearance and was grateful for the distance-causing table that was between them.

"May I be honest?" Ginny asked, looking at him as he took a sip of his drink. He grimaced against the heat, and put it down quickly. "Yes, I always give mine a minute or two to cool," she surmised, with a smirk of her own.

"If I say yes, will you promise not to attack my character?" he asked, although she doubted very well anything she had to say would puncture his ego.

"I hope that this invitation wasn't some way to get back at the Golden Trio for how often you have had," she trailed off, thinking for the right word. "Scuttles, I guess I could say, in the past."

"What if I told you this was a way for me to kidnap you into a post-Death Eater movement?" He asked her, and smirked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Should I be afraid?"

"Of course not. Not to say that the idea's not tempting," he said, and took a sip of his drink. She almost swore she saw his eyes twinkle, but it must have been a reflection of light.

"Bugger off," she said, crossing her arms, leaning back in her seat. It was clear she was getting no where with him.

"My intentions are as pure as can be," Draco finally said, putting down his coffee. "Well, as pure as any other seventeen year old male. I don't know why, Ms. Weasley, but I can't seem to get you out of my head. I know I probably don't have a chance. I know Potter is probably waiting back at your common room, annoyed that you hadn't stayed in with him this weekend. Still, here I am, transfixed by your sweet smile and find myself wanting to get lost in your gaze."

Ginny took a sharp breath, and her heart pounded in her chest, the butterflies fluttering to escape. "What do you like to do for fun?" she asked after a moment, and he relaxed, after she accepted his answer. She hoped it didn't seem too naive of her, to just trust his motive. She couldn't help it. No other boy her age had ever given her goosebumps, let alone made her heart pound the way Draco Malfoy did.

He raised his eyebrow at the young girl, almost surprised himself that she had so willingly accepted his answer. "I have to say that isn't a question I'm asked very often," he told her. "I like quidditch, there's some adrenaline in it, see," he explained to her, and she smiled.

"You must forget that I like to play," she replied, grinning at him. "No explanation needed there."

"A breath of fresh air," he told her, a real grin on his face. "If I had to explain to one more dim-witted girl what the difference between the quaffle and the snitch is, I might have to slit my wrists in the bathroom."

"Pansy not a real fan, eh?"

"Not really, she paints herself up, and uses it more as an excuse to..." he trailed off. "What's the word? Ah yes, to accessorize with our house's colors."

Ginny almost snorted with laughter.

"I almost had her convinced to dye her hair green once. Told her it would be complimented by my silver-like locks," he smirked and Ginny laughed, throwing her head back.

"I would have loved to see it. I'm sure if you told her you liked it she'd be all over the idea," she smirked back.

"Goyle ruined it, the pudgy bastard. He started laughing, and punched me after she agreed to it. Blew my cover."

"Poor thing," Ginny teased, and tried to deny the butterflies access to her throat as she watched Draco's smile cross his features.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Besides the well-known idea that you were going to become a future Death Eater, what else would you have liked to been when you grow up?"

Ginny smirked at him, and looked at him, hoping that he could come up with a decent answer for her silly question. She knew it was something that most muggle children asked at a young age, and understood some of the symbology behind what careers they chose, and how it summed them up as a person. "I've always wanted to be an artist."

Ginny looked up at him, and her eye brows were raised. She assumed that he would say some sort of financial investment banker, or some business type career. "Really."

"Surprise you much, does it?" he asked her. "I should hope you know I take a tad bit of offense to that. What do you like to do in your free time?" he asked, turning the tables on her rather quickly.

She sat back in her chair, and looked boredly around. "I don't enjoy getting prettied up and planning parties like your normal girlies do," she told him, rolling her eyes. "I like to be outside, I like to go horse back riding, none of that side-saddle crap either," she added. "Quidditch is loads of fun, but it's more the adrenaline that I like. I don't know that I could do it forever. I think my favorite thing to do, is curl up with a really good book," she finished.

"I can't sit down and read a lot in one sitting. Honestly, I don't have the patience to read much of anything, now that I think about it. I've got smarts, sure, but it's a little boring all the same. Who wants to just sit around reading things all day? Besides Granger I mean," he finished.

Ginny laughed, and shook her head. "What is it?" he asked her, unsure of how his statement was funny.

"I want to be a writer when I grow up."

The way she laughed, with her head thrown back, he couldn't help but stare at her. He had never in his life felt so peculiar, almost awkward with this girl. He knew that he had made a ridiculous statement for someone he was trying so hard to get to know, and yet she hadn't taken offense to it at all. This beautiful young girl must have understood something that he didn't, to be able to be comfortable with herself. Whatever it was, it made it hard to look away.

TBC


End file.
